


Too Much to Remember

by SowenElf



Category: Alias (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27128563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SowenElf/pseuds/SowenElf
Summary: Set between the Season 2 finale and Season 3 episode 1. Vaughn finds something that rekindles memories he's tried too long to hide. Can he let go? Should he?
Relationships: Michael Vaughn/Lauren Reed, Sydney Bristow/Michael Vaughn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. The Box

**Too Much To Remember**

**Chapter 1: The Box**

Vaughn sat staring at the brown cardboard box, his hands trembling slightly as the object seemed to be watching him as it sat on the table. His trusted bottle of scotch was sitting next to the offending entity, and he lifted his glass quickly feeling the familiar burn of the alcohol traveling down his throat.

He'd packed everything. Every photo; every hair tie; favorite mug, favorite book; every memory. The box sat full, the open leaves sealed with clear packing tape until the roll had been exhausted. It was as if Sydney herself was sealed away where he could no longer reach. A year later, while packing into a new house with a new life, more importantly, a new wife, the box had appeared. When questioned over it, he lied. Merely referring to it as his 'old life stuff', but since its arrival, it had been a constant in his mind. Late into the night, he climbed gently out of bed and silently crept into the living room. He found it easily because of the over-done taping job along the creases of the top, bottom, and sides.

Running a hand through his tousled hair he stood and made his way into the messy kitchen. Leaning against the counter with a sigh, he tilted his head to the side once more as his eyes landed on the box. Yanking open a drawer, he grabbed a small paring knife and timidly made his way back into the living room, checking the hallway to make sure Lauren was still sleeping.

Ripping through the tape easily, he set the knife down and peeled away the sections one by one until several rolled and folded items wrapped in newspaper from that morning, the day she'd disappeared, became visible in the faded light of the kitchen. Flicking on the lamp atop the coffee table he lifted the first item from the top and gingerly unwrapped it. A faded frame of scuffed and dingy silver was offset by the picture sporting the brilliant sunset and churning waters washing about the feet of the couple standing in the surf; centered on the black velvet backing tears welled at the corners of his eyes, going unheeded.

"Eric's birthday," Vaughn whispered with a hoarse voice as he settled back against the couch, his mind lost in the memory of that day.

_"Syd, you're the best! Thank you!" Weiss laughed lightly and pulled the smiling brunette into a warm embrace as he held the brand new hockey shirt against his chest to see how it fit._

_"You're welcome. I mean…it isn't much but I couldn't really think of anything else. And under the circumstances of the incredible 7 to 2 loss your team underwent this afternoon, I'd say it's the perfect gift." She laughed and caught Weiss' grunt of approval as he took a quick drink of his beer._

_The waves crashed in the background as the sun set lower in the sky. The raging party of perhaps ten people was beginning to subside, leaving Eric, Vaughn, and Sydney alone on the beach. Weiss' birthday party had gone off without a hitch or a single phone call from Kendall, something of a rare occurrence._

_"Syd, let's take a walk," Vaughn suggested as he stood and pulled her with him hearing Eric's voice in the background._

_"Oh…now that it's time to pack everything up you've become romantic." He growled and lifted the large cooler prior to turning and making his way along the sandy beach to the parking lot._

_Grains of sand stuck to the back of her faded denim shorts as she linked her fingers with his, the two walking in silence with the surf lapping at their ankles._

_"Oh, I almost forgot." She jumped, reaching into the small pocket and pulling out a gold key. "To my apartment. I had it made today when I picked up Eric's shirt."_

_Vaughn stopped and gave her a confused look. "I thought we weren't moving ahead too quickly; we were going to take our time."_

_She could hear the laugh in his voice as he echoed her words of the previous day._

_"Well, the longer I thought about it, the more I realized that we've waited nearly two years as it is. But…if that isn't long enough, Agent Vaughn, I could always take the key back and use it as a spare," she continued walking, though her eyes didn't miss him pocketing the item of their conversation._

_"The spot under the third potted geranium from the left has already been claimed."_

_"True…then you'd better keep it. Just in case," she countered and felt a pull against her arm._

_More than willingly, she moved into his embrace as her head found his shoulder, his chin resting against the crown of her head. Sydney's fingers drew abstract designs along the skin of his back, feeling the tied knot of the t-shirt around his waist pushing into her stomach._

_"I suppose we should help Eric pack up." Vaughn pulled away reluctantly as he reached out and cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand. "You are so beautiful," he sighed, pressing a light yet intimate kiss to her lips before retracting slowly and taking her hand once more._

_Two weeks later Eric surprised them both with the picture he'd taken, the setting was beautiful as the sun sunk in the horizon, the ocean waves lapping lightly about their feet as Vaughn held her against him while setting a gentle hand to her face._

_"It would be strange if I kept it." Was Weiss' only explanation as he presented the framed photo to the pair during dinner one night._

Vaughn sniffed and wiped at his tears angrily, but the images that assailed his mind wouldn't leave. Automatically, his hands reached back into the box and produced an envelope. Tucked not sealed, the contents spilled out easily onto his palm as he stared openly at the two ticket stubs. KINGS printed neatly on the side, Vaughn swears that he can hear her laughter despite the nearly two-year absence of Sydney Bristow from his life.

_"Come on! Cross-checking, ref! What are you blind?!" Vaughn jumped up and screamed with the crowd about them then sat back down with a huff as the Kings fell behind, 3-2._

" _Michael, it's just a game. Tone it down." He whipped his head to stare at her laughing mocha eyes as she sat reclined with her feet donning comfortable tennis shoes and propped up on the back of the empty seat in front of her. Her freckles stood out against her pale cheeks and strands of her straight brown hair hung in her eyes. She had long since given up on keeping the flyaway ends from tickling her chin and nose._

" _What did you say?" He asked quietly, the last breath of his question lost in the din of yet another outrageous play._

" _Tone it down?" She questioned with an upturned eyebrow, tearing off a small piece of cotton candy and placing it into her mouth._

" _No before that."_

" _It's just a game?"_

" _Before. You…you called me Michael."_

_He caught the slight blush on her cheeks as she looked down at her lap and folded her fingers together._

" _You never call me Michael." His smile was light, though it seemed to touch his eyes as leaned back to get a better look at the woman sitting next to._

" _I do sometimes," her dimple grew on her right cheek as she finally reverted her gaze to Vaughn, remembering all of the times they met in secret, back to back, knowing that one glance could end their lives._

" _I like it." He leaned forward and set a kiss to her lips. Hot, but not born of passion, his lips were commandeering, yet gentle and he pulled back quietly to observe her sitting with eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. A small patch of red scratches stood out against her chin and he scolded himself for not shaving before taking her out._

" _The Kings just scored." Her voice was lower than usual but full of laughter as his green eyes sparkled before he shook his head, leaning forward once more with a whisper before his lips met hers once again._

" _It's just a game."_

Letting the tickets fall to the table he heard soft padding footfall in the hallway. Jumping up from his position on the floor he looked into the eyes of his sleepy wife Lauren as she cocked an eyebrow in his direction, an amused yet confused and curious gaze creasing the corners of her eyes.

"Michael…it's three in the morning, love. What on earth prompted you to unpack at this ungodly hour?" She asked quietly, her British accent sounding so foreign in his ears after remembering the clear bright voice of Sydney's. She leaned down and lifted the antique picture frame into her hands. The smile left her face quickly as she looked up at him with something akin to compassion and jealousy in her blue eyes.

"Was this Sydney?" She asked lightly and diverted her gaze back to the intimate picture, though she caught the slight nod of his head. "You kept a box of her things?"

"No…well…yes, but I forgot about it completely." He defended lightly, the hitch in his voice not going unnoticed by his wife.

"What were you going to do with these Michael? Hope that I wouldn't notice?" She asked as tears filled her eyes as she set a pale hand to her hip. "You told me you'd gotten over it…that you had put her behind you. Judging by the heartache written on your face it doesn't seem like you were telling the truth." She sobbed and her fingers curled around the picture frame. "Do you still love her?"

"Yes. And I won't lie to you by saying that it…it hurt when I found these things…but Lauren, it…it doesn't mean anything. You're my wife." Though his words were justified in his head, his heart was another matter.

"I want you to get rid of it, Michael. It's just going to be a link to a past you promised you'd forget." She almost ordered and she swiped at a tear on her cheek.

"Lauren," he sighed as he began to pace, one hand over his face as he squeezed his eyes so tight that colors danced behind the lids.

"Michael…please. Just do it for us."

"Us? What did Sydney ever have to do with you?" His voice was angry now as he turned to fix dim, green-grey eyes on the woman standing before him.

"Don't you think that it was a sign? Michael…you and I were supposed to be together. Think of how many things had to happen for us to meet and marry. Sydney's death, the Covenant playing a role in everything, my investigation…"

"Three things…Lauren, do you have any idea how many wheels were set in motion for me to meet Sydney? Lauren, I don't say this to diminish my love for you, you know that I care for you more than anything, but…Sydney, for a brief eight months, was mine." His eyes glazed over as he kept his gaze trained on his wife. He continued.

"You're right that I have moved on, but that doesn't mean that I don’t remember what it was like to be with her. Though it doesn't compare to now, nothing could, I have to commit to memory the way she was. Regardless of whether or not I keep an old picture, she'll always live with me and I'm going to cherish the memories that I have." He made his way to Lauren's side, taking the picture from her shaking hands as he cupped her cheek.

"I'm sorry; I had no right to ask you to forget her completely." Lauren smiled lightly as the pad of his thumb wiped away a silent tear as she struggled to calm herself.

"Besides, I never said I couldn't make new memories," he smiled, pressing a light kiss to her mouth as she wrapped her arms about his neck.

"What was she like? I know I promised I'd never ask you about your relationship, but I don't know. I want to know about you Michael, and she was a big part of you."

Hesitant at first, he finally nodded as she sat beside him on their new couch. Reaching in with trembling fingers, he found yet another photograph. Ironically, taken by Amy Tippin as she, Will, and Francie, or who they thought was Francie, invited them to dinner at the restaurant she owned. The picture was of the four of them.

The picture showed them all relatively dressed down, though Vaughn and Syd had come from a meeting with Kendall that evening so his dress pants, jacket and white shirt were a bit out of place with Francie and Will's jeans and casual dining clothes. Sydney had taken off her business coat, revealing a black tank-top underneath. He chuckled a bit at the awkwardness of the picture at the time, though hilarious when thinking back on it.

"What's so funny?" Lauren questioned as she studied the picture, seeing Michael, Sydney and two others she'd never seen before soaking wet and covered with bubbles in a heap on a wide wooden floor. Buckets, sponges and mops forgotten as they lay in a tangled group of arms and legs while wrestling over a single torn sponge.

"That's Will, and….well…that was Francie's double, though at the time we had no clue about Alison Doren." His smile had faded completely as he remembered the laughing face of the young woman as she jumped up to join the fun.

"She was remarkably good at her job." He ground out as he looked over to see Lauren smiling gently, her hand on his arm to let him know she was ready to listen if he was willing to talk.

"We had been in a meeting for what seemed like hours until we were finally set free. We met at Francie's restaurant for a party for Will's birthday, and when it was over we started to clean up and… it was just the five of us…"

_"You're beautiful." Vaughn's words tickled her ear as she placed another empty bottle into the large black trash bag she was carrying._

" _Vaughn…clean." She pushed him away with a giggle and the five of them finished in a relatively short amount of time. Will and Francie were talking with Amy at the bar as Vaughn flopped down in a chair on the opposite side of the room. Sydney smiled at him as she proceeded to wipe the table down with a wet washcloth._

" _No rest for the weary, come on. Grab a mop; you boys can do the hard work." Amy ordered as she rolled out two large wheeled buckets filled with soapy water and a mop resting handle out from the recesses of the containers. Pushing one over to Will and another to Vaughn, they sighed and stood up. Vaughn took off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up to the elbow as he went to work on his side of the floor._

_The three girls dunked sponges into the warm water and began washing the windows and the rest of the tables. Sydney's eyes wandered a few tables away to where Vaughn's muscles stretched and pulled with the side to side motion of running the long mop back and forth. He looked up as he splashed the end back into the oversized pail and met her eyes._

" _See something you like Ms. Bristow?" he questioned and made his way over to her, his hands lightly gripping both sides of her ribcage and pulling her against his chest. She dropped the sponge, forgetting their audience for the moment as her wet hands came into contact with the back of his neck. Pulling his head down, she covered his lips with hers as her fingers ran through his messy, yet styled, hair. His hands slid down her sides and moved around to her back as she pressed herself fully against him, her arms running over his shoulders as his tongue teased her own._

_A splash of cold water startled the pair apart as they heard laughter through the roar of blood in their ears. Turning with a grin, Amy held a large, now empty, bowl dripping in her hands as Will and Francie nearly doubled over with laughter. One sponge flew, and that was the end of it. When the washcloths, sponges and other safe-to-throw items had scuttled underneath the bar or a table out of reach, cupped hands and bowls were used to transport the liquid through the air. An all-out wrestling match was the end result of a single tattered sponge and Will, Francie, Sydney, and Vaughn all slipped and toppled to the wet hardwood floor with a series of grunts and groans mingling with laughter._

_The sudden flash of a camera made them all grumble as they spotted Amy from her spot at the bar, a drink in her hand, and water dripping from her orange hair as she waved the camera in their direction._

"I think Amy made fifty copies, and needless to say, all who were involved got one." Michael finished as he smiled fondly at the picture before setting it down and looking over at a chuckling Lauren.

"Sounds like a night of fun." She grinned, though it pained her to hear him talk of his intimate relationship with Sydney, it was all a part of healing.

"Look, it's late, but I'll understand if you want to look at more of this. I'm going back to bed." She leaned over, offering him a small kiss before she stood and made her way back to the bedroom.

His eyes scanned the few objects he'd pulled from the box of memories as he thought back to what Lauren had said about the items being something to connect him with the past. He had his memories, and while those were painful to think of at first, he welcomed them now. His love for Sydney hadn't been trivial, he knew. Digging carefully through the box, his fingers brushed over a small velvet box. Finding what he was searching for, he closed his fist around it and pulled it up from the bottom.

He sat, just staring at the black velvet-covered tribute to his love for a woman that no longer existed, and despite the ongoing war with his mind to keep it closed and not release the emotions tied to the object, he opened it anyway.

_"I'm going to do it." Vaughn's voice startled the man across from him as Weiss sent him a glare._

" _Do what?" He grumbled, getting back to his paperwork. Though his voice sounded grumpy, his eyes held a certain measure of curiosity to what his friend was talking about. Hearing the roll of a chair across the three feet to his desk, he saw Vaughn search the room with his eyes before coming to a stop in front of his confidant._

" _You can't tell anyone."_

" _Even Syd?"_

" _Especially Syd. Understand? Eric, promise me."_

" _All right, okay, geez. I promise." He groused and clicked his pen closed, turning to look at Michael with little to no patience. "Tell me already. What's the big secret? You've been acting weird all week."_

_Reaching a hand into his coat pocket, he pulled out the single item he had been terrified of since the moment he had bought it._

" _That isn't what I think it is, is it?"_

" _Shut up," Vaughn growled with a smile as he opened the lid, the platinum band with a single small diamond perched in the center of the black silk._

" _That's it? Come on…you're going to propose with that little thing?"_

" _Eric, as I'm sure you're painfully aware of, size isn't everything. It's not like it was the first ring I looked at. Of course, I'd love to give her a million-carat diamond ring with her name engraved into the band, but…but that's not Sydney. This was perfect."_

" _How long have you had it?" Eric questioned with a grin as he propped his head on his hand like a teenage girl asking about a boy in class. Vaughn laughed as he snapped the case closed, placing it back into its safe place inside his coat as he rolled away from Weiss to his own desk._

" _I shouldn't have said anything to you." He growled with a smirk as he clicked the mouse of his computer and the black screen faded back to the report he'd been too distracted to work on._

" _Come on, you know I live vicariously through you. You've got Sydney, I've got Alan." Weiss nearly yelled, seeing a few eyebrows raise in laughter from the officers around them. "He's my dog!" He added quickly as Vaughn laughed as he typed at the report once more._

_Two weeks had passed until Weiss caught back up with him at the firing range hidden in the basement of the JTF building._

" _I can't believe they got away. Again. How many times has that slippery little bastard gotten away from us? Are we seriously ever going to catch them?" Weiss asked as Vaughn reloaded his pistol, taking the earphones off and letting them rest about his neck._

" _Personally, I don't think we ever will." He answered simply as Weiss leaned against the wall beside him, a small smirk on his face. "What?"_

" _You still haven't asked her, have you?" Eric questioned as he reached out and poked at the lump hidden in the cloth of Vaughn's overcoat._

" _I…I just haven't found the right moment. That's all." Vaughn lied as he turned and fired a few shots, catching the shaking of Weiss' shoulders as he laughed, though he was thankful that he couldn't hear the mocking giggles of the agent._

" _You never will, you just have to do it."_

" _Syd and I happen to be going away for the weekend. I cleared it with Kendall. I'm planning on asking her at the beach in Santa Barbara."_

" _Oooh, Mike, you're growing them back!"_

" _Growing what back?"_

" _Those balls of steel. Haven't seen them for a while, I'm glad they're still around. Well, congrats, and have a good vacation. I think Syd's briefing is over, though Kendall did say he wanted to talk with you in an hour."_

_It was Eric that called his cell phone an hour and a half later, prompting Vaughn to apologize to Kendall and Jack Bristow as he received glares from both senior officers. It was Eric that told him that something had happened. No details were given as he said, "Get to Syd's, now," and hung up the phone._

_The smoke was visible as he turned into her neighborhood, his foot slammed on the accelerator the entire drive from the JTF to her apartment. The complex was engulfed in flames as Vaughn recognized the family that lived on the opposite side of Syd and Francie's standing out on the lawn as they watched both homes burn. He couldn't move from his car as he watched helplessly as the fire department put out the inferno, and only until they deemed it safe to enter the premises did he jump from his car to be stopped by Weiss and a police officer he didn't know._

" _Stop man, there's nothing you can do." He tried, though they were both distracted as an ambulance drove up and stopped quickly._

" _We've got a man in his early thirties, stab wound to the chest. He's lost blood, we need a transfusion stat," a medic beside him ordered as they rolled Will Tippin out on a stretcher. Though his eyes were open, he was speaking incoherently._

" _Will…what happened. Where is Sydney?" Vaughn asked as desperation filled his voice._

" _Francie…Alison..." he wheezed as he struggled to speak so Vaughn could understand him._

" _Sir, please. This is no time for an interrogation." The paramedic growled as she and two others loaded Will onto the ambulance and sped off down the road, sirens and lights blazing._

" _We've got two bodies inside, burned too badly to be immediately identified. Bring in a team, we'll take dental samples."_

" _Sir…I'm Michael Vaughn, C.I.A. The woman that lives here, Sydney Bristow, I need to know where she is."_

" _Other than the man that was just taken away, there were no other survivors." His eyes were kind as he dealt the news to the stricken young man before turning and dealing with the crime scene._

_Everything after that once sentence was a blur. He vaguely remembered Weiss trying to get him to leave; something about walking through the gutted insides of the home that used to belong to his Sydney. Finally making his way to the charred bedroom, he saw two body bags laying on opposite sides of the room, shards of melted glass scattered about one, and he remembered Sydney's stand-up mirror that used to be in that corner. Slouching down against the badly damaged wall, he watched with tear-filled eyes as the team entered the remains of the apartment and identified one body as Francine Calfo and the other as Sydney Bristow._

Tears spilled down his cheeks as he closed the case and tossed it back into the box. Standing and taking determined strides into the kitchen, he emerged moments later with a large roll of packing tape. Setting everything back where he'd pulled it out from, save the picture of he and Syd on the beach. Removing the picture from the frame, he walked to the coat rack and tucked the image behind his C.I.A. issue ID.

Sealing the box back up, he walked back into the bedroom to see Lauren sound asleep in a tangle of pillows and blankets. Setting a kiss to her forehead, he found a t-shirt and yanked it over his head before sliding his feet into a pair of flip flops. Hefting the box into his arms and grabbing his car keys, he set it in the passenger side seat before jumping in and driving to Eric's.

The lights in the living room were on, and Vaughn double-checked his watch to make sure he knew what time it was. 4:47 am. With a frown, he made his way up to the front door with the heavy item in his hands. Setting it down at his feet, he knocked, half expecting to hear Eric stumble to the door with a growl and give him the 'early morning eyes of doom', as he so happily put it one morning.

Eric opened the door with concerned eyes, though he was wide awake.

"Hey, I'm sorry for waking you up so early, but…but I need you to take this box. Do whatever you want with it; I just can't have it any longer. Too many memories of someone I'll never see again. I've moved on, but I need to get rid of these," he spilled, seeing the cell phone to Weiss' ear.

"How the hell did you get here so fast?"

"What?"

"I just left you a message, I didn't think you'd be able to get here this fast. Wait…is this the Sydney Box?"

"I didn't know you called." Instinctively, he reached down to his pants to find his cell phone but remembered that it was on the nightstand beside his wallet. "I left the cell phone at home. What are you doing up this early?"

"Mike….uhh…I just got a call ten minutes ago from Kendall."

"No. Eric, I told you last year that I'm out, I don't want to hear about anything regarding the C.I.A.."

"No…you need to listen to this, please. Just hear me out," Eric ordered, lifting the box into his arms as he tossed his cell phone across the room onto the couch. "Sit," he spoke as he sat Vaughn down at the table.

"Kendall got a call a few minutes ago from an agent in Hong Kong. An agent….missing for almost two years. She identified herself as Sydney Bristow. They ran voice print analysis on the call and it's been confirmed. Sydney's in Hong Kong, and from what we know, she has absolutely no memory of the last two years." Eric's words came out slow and deliberate as he watched the myriad of emotions in his friend's eyes.

Vaughn's head was swimming as he tried desperately to decipher what Eric was telling him. "She's alive?" His voice was merely a squeak as Weiss handed him a glass of water.

"Kendall asked me to go to Hong Kong and bring her home, explain that it's been two years, and set things straight. Mike…I called you because…because I think you should go."

**…**


	2. Alone With His Thoughts

**Chapter 2: Alone With His Thoughts**

Vaughn was alone, though not as alone as he could have hoped. The empty private jet was almost eerily quiet, and the white leather seats seemed to engulf him with memories from every angle. His gaze drifted to the back, seeing the minibar and the two chairs separated by a long wooden table, he smiled with his eyes as his face remained blank.

_ 'Sydney is alive,' _ his voice echoed every couple of moments, though he tried to force the three words from his mind as he settled back into the plush of his own seat. He tried closing off from the assault of images but was unable to as the flood gates opened.

" _ I'm fairly sure, Agent Vaughn, that three of a kind beat two pair," Sydney's voice slightly slurred as she poured more tequila into the small shot glass to her right. Dollar bills scattered the flat surface of the table as the two bumped knees between the posts securing it to the floor of the plane. _

" _ Even if my…two pair are aces and twos?" _

" _ Especially if they're aces and twos. You don't seem to be….understanding the concept of this game," she laughed with a hiccup and collected the money from the middle of the table. Shoving it toward her already impressive stash, Vaughn glowered at her from his seat across the way. _

" _ You know, I didn't know you were this good at poker. It's your face. I…I can usually read your emotions clearly, but not when you play. Or when you're on a mission," he commented and set his cards down silently, crossing his hands over the scattered discard pile. _

" _ This conversation is a little bit too deep for how drunk we are. Kendall is going to flip when we stumble off of the plane." Sydney smiled, her dimples captivating him as she leaned across the table to set a kiss against his lips. Her aim was a bit off as she set her mouth at the corner of his, but the result was the exact same. His hands reached out and cupped her cheek and chin before tugging her mouth over to his own, tasting the sting of the lime and the burn of the liquor along with the undeniable flavor of Sydney's strawberry-kiwi lip gloss. _

" _ Maybe we should stop drinking," she mumbled in a deep voice, almost foreign to his ears before pulling herself away with a slight blush to her cheeks and an extra pout to her lips. They both clumsily put the cards back into her carry-on bag and he made his way to the front to confer with the pilot briefly before returning to the cabin. _

_ He found her resting on one of the two couches, though in his mind, a couch was something you can stretch out on completely without slamming your head or feet into the armrest. These were akin to elongated chairs. Still, the sight of her bundled up with a blanket around her waist, hair fanning out against the bland, white pillow, and her hand tucked gently against her cheek, his breath couldn't help but catch in the back of his throat. _

" _ Did you talk with the pilot?" _

" _ Who?" her words made him jump, seeing nothing but a shadow of her lips move as the overhead lights dimmed when he hit the switch on the wall. _

" _ You know, the guy flying the plane? The pilot? What's our ETA?" He had to crack a smile as she tried to remain professional despite the slight slur to her sentences and the occasional hiccup that impaired her usually articulate speech. _

" _ We'll land in about thirteen hours," he sighed as he moved to the opposite side of the cabin and began making his own bed for the evening. _

" _ What are you doing?" Her voice was curious as she sat up, letting the blanket pool about her waist as she pulled the button up blouse over her head, revealing a black tank top underneath. Her slender arms tossed the offending piece of clothing to the back of a nearby chair. She leaned onto her side, propping her head in the palm of her hand as she watched him pull out a ratty backpack from an overhead storage bin. _

_ A slow smile spread across her cheeks as she calmly watched him yank out a crumpled t-shirt. He placed it on his newly extracted pillow from the same compartment and moved his hands to the buttons of his shirt. Working them each, he felt her eyes burning into his back but continued nonetheless. _

" _ I'm going to go to bed. What are you doing?" he asked with a lopsided grin tossed over his shoulder as his eyes focused on the curve of her waist as the black material of the stretchy tank top held nothing and yet everything to the imagination. He had already memorized each toned abdominal muscle, each soft bend and dip of her hips and stomach, along with the slope of her side as his line of sight moved to her shoulders and then across her chest. Her graceful neck had a swan-like bend as her hand held her head at a slight angle. Her highlighted brown hair was pulled aside, revealing the fading purple mark he had placed a few nights ago under her ear. _

" _ You're not the only one who's seen it. You could have at least let me know." One of her delicate yet strong hands traced a circle around the love bite, a contented yet annoyed look flashing in her deep chocolate eyes before the hand ran the length of her throat and flopped down to land on the cream colored cushion of the seat. _

" _ I'll bet Jack was thrilled." Vaughn joked as he turned back, pulling the button-up shirt off and tossing it to the same chair she’d tossed hers. _

_ Her eyes darkened slightly as she took in the movement of his muscles across and down his back before they disappeared into the top of his belt-buckled trousers. He turned slightly to the side as he lifted his shirt up and shook it out. Shoving both arms into their respective holes, he bundled the fabric up in his strong hands before he pulled it over his head, letting the material fall down to hide his bronzed skin from her eyes. He opened the compartment above his head once more in search of a blanket but came up empty-handed as he turned to see her desire-filled eyes watching him with unveiled interest. _

" _ Any more blankets?" _

" _ Here," she reached underneath her pillow and extracted a folded blanket. _

" _ No, if you were using it I wouldn't take it. I'll just find another," he protested lightly, moving to her side of the plane and rummaging through several bins before coming up empty-handed. His search ended quickly when he felt her fingers skimming across his muscled stomach beneath his grey, tattered shirt, a finger briefly dipping in and out of his bellybutton as a shock of electricity moved from one end of his spine to the other. _

" _ You know…I've got a blanket here, and a cozy pillow. Plus, it's already warm on my side," she prodded with the gentle yet sultry voice she usually reserved for when they were in the privacy of a bedroom. The simple fact that they weren't sure if they were being surveilled or if the pilot would come back to check on his passengers prompted Vaughn to pull away from her sizzling touch. _

" _ Syd, we need to behave. Trust me, it's a good idea." His voice was strained as he took the offered blanket from her hands and let his fingers graze hers before setting a light kiss to her forehead. Unable to resist, he ran a hand through her silky hair before returning to his side of the cabin and tossing his ratty backpack to the floor by the head of the couch. After making his cot for the evening, he stood up and turned out the remainder of the overhead lights. All that remained were the emergency exit signs and the small lights running on both sides of the floor leading to said points on the aircraft. _

_ He heard her sigh and slide underneath the covers, the faint silhouette showing him that she'd rolled over to face the back of the cushion. Vaughn lay listening to her breathing as it evened out, her entire body relaxing into sleep-mode as he lay on his back, a small smile curving his lips as he willed his mind to settle and sleep to enter. _

_ Unfortunately, sleep did not come so easily. He tossed and turned for most of two hours, sleeping off and on ten to fifteen minutes at a time. Rolling over once more he stretched out his legs and settled with his back to the open and quiet cabin. He heard a faint rustle of cloth, figuring that Sydney had moved about as well. Her gentle hands running through his hair and the soft kiss she placed against his stubbly jaw made him smile slowly. He felt her slide in behind him, pulling the blankets around her body as a momentary breeze hit his warm back and legs. _

" _ Can't sleep?" Syd's voice was a sweet whisper, making him wonder if she'd spoken at all. Her breath fanned the back of his neck as she draped her arm over his side and the other began rubbing small but firm circles into his upper back. _

" _ Not really. Don't know why," he shrugged lightly, not wanting her soothing touch to end. _

" _ Me neither. I suppose I'm getting used to having you sleep next to me each night," she confessed as he looped her fingers through hers before turning to face her. Leaving their hands joined between their two stomachs, his other wound underneath her head as she set her head to his shoulder and buried her nose into the side of his neck. Her legs tangled around his, creating their own cocoon before drifting off while sharing a contented sigh. _

Michael pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as he heard his cell phone ring in his pocket. Without thinking he pulled it out and hit the button prior to setting it against his ear.

"Vaughn," he spoke gruffly into the receiver as his wife's worried voice broke the quiet cocoon of semi-tranquility, semi-heartache he'd created.

"Where are you? I tried calling before but you didn't answer. I got your message, but you weren't specific. What's wrong?"

"I'm on my way to Hong Kong."

"Whatever for?" Her curt reply made him take a deep breath, deciding ultimately to tell his wife the truth.

"Lauren, I got a call from Eric. He said that my superior from when I was with the Agency got a call from an agent we all presumed was dead,"

"What? Who?" her voice sounded a bit off, a hint of concern mixed with jealousy tainting her usually clipped, British tone.

"Sydney Bristow. They've asked me to go get her from Hong Kong; apparently, she has no memory of the last two years. She's lost and alone, and…though I tried to talk Eric out of it, the Agency thought it would be best if I was the one to…to introduce her to her new life."

"She…Sydney is alive?" she sounded broken, which only served to make his guilt over the present situation rise to the surface.

"Lauren, please try to understand something. Yes - I am going because the Agency asked me, but…but this is also an important step for me. Sweetie, I can finally get closure."

"But you'll be there with her; the woman that you loved so much,"

"We've been through this; you're my wife. Sydney…yes, I loved her, but that part of my life is over. If I can help her in even the smallest way get her life back together, I will. Before everything, she was my friend, and I'm determined to keep it that way."

"Fine." Lauren's clipped word was the last thing he heard over the receiver before the line went dead. Closing the phone with a sigh, he peered out the darkening window, hearing the captain over the intercom saying they had an hour before reaching Hong Kong's airport.

" _ I don't think there isn't a spot on my body that isn't sore," Sydney grumbled as she eased herself into the chair beside Vaughn. The terminal was buzzing with activity as the two agents waited patiently for their flight to begin loading. _

" _ Well, I did advise against your escape route," Vaughn hid a chuckle from behind his magazine before bending the page and seeing the death glare she was shooting in his direction. With a suppressed laugh he blocked her face with the rather uninteresting article and continued to read. _

" _ What would you have done? It was either take the fall through the window or get shot. I've been shot, thank you very much, so I opted for the slight drop to the padded grass below." _

" _ Two stories is a slight drop to you?" Vaughn asked, their conversation looking like gentle romantic banter if viewed from the outside. _

" _ As I said…what would you have done?" she questioned with a sigh and leaned her head against his shoulder. _

_ She dozed lightly for the forty-seven minutes until the PA system asked for the first-class passengers to begin boarding their flight. He picked up her carry-on along with his own and helped her out of the chair, noticing the slight wince as he set his hand to the small of her back. _

_ Finding their seats was a bit of a chore as she realized they weren't sitting next to one another; rather he was across the aisle by the opposite window. They passed sincere looks before exchanging a small chaste kiss and taking their positions quietly. _

" _ Pardon me, is this 24C?" a young man's voice asked with a heavy Russian accent. Sydney looked up at him with a smile that wasn't entirely heartfelt as she noticed his eyes taking in her slim frame. _

" _ Yes, it is," her clipped answer went unnoticed by the man as he winked unabashedly in her direction and stowed his carry-on. _

" _ My name is Dimitri Voshkovisch; it is pleasure to meet you." _

" _ Kate Jones," She briefly saw Vaughn's amused smile in the corner of her eye as he tried to look interested in his magazine and not on the conversation across the aisle. _

" _ That is lovely name, Ms. Jones. Do you travel to Russia often?" _

_ Sydney sighed and finally decided that the sooner they introduced themselves the sooner she would be able to break off the conversation and sleep the remainder of the flight. _

" _ I flew in for a finance conference in Moscow; I work as a loan officer for Credit Dauphine in Los Angeles." _

_ That magic sentence had saved her many times from pushy men on more flights than she could remember. An attractive young woman with a brain wasn't usually the kind that would share a cab and a night of fun before going back to the real world, and most men she talked to would nod politely and say something like, 'that's nice' prior to turning to more interesting books, magazines, or paperwork. _

" _ Really? Very interesting, I am investment analyst at corporate Bank St. Petersburg. Flying to Los Angeles for a meeting with client." _

_ Thus began Sydney's two-hour conversation. She'd been adequately prepped on the cover story of a loan officer from her work at SD-6, and her ability to improvise was stellar. Though Vaughn felt a little sorry for her, he couldn't help but grow concerned as the man began asking about Syd's personal life, and if she would be interested in "getting together for drink after the flight," as he put it. He'd been in a nice conversation with a kind old woman to his left, though he mostly tuned her out after she began gushing over her granddaughter's wedding. _

" _ Marie is such a wonderful young lady…would you like to see her dress Mr. Daniels?" She asked and Vaughn responded, nearly forgetting that he'd given himself an Alias as well. _

_ Reaching into her knitting bag, she pulled out a bridal magazine and flipped expertly to a page, showing him the pearly-white gown worn beautifully by a model standing in a gorgeous rose garden. _

" _ Please, it's nothing. I ran into someone, that's all." Syd's voice broke his concentration as he looked over and saw Voshkovisch examining – a little too closely – a bruise on her arm. _

" _ May I borrow this?" he asked the woman beside him with a wink and his usual disarming smile, reaching out and taking the magazine from her hands. "Pardon me," He stood, walking across the aisle as Sydney followed him with her eyes while rolling the sleeve of her sweater back down over a bruise, cursing herself for revealing the angry mark in the first place. _

" _ Sweetie, what about this? Not the dress, of course, since you've already picked yours out, but the setting?" He winked, leaning deliberately over Dimitri and flashing the photo in the bridal magazine under her surprised eyes. _

" _ It's nice, but I thought we'd settled on a beach wedding. You can't change your mind, we've only got three weeks left. It's all been planned, baby, go sit back down." Brushing a soft kiss against his chin she noticed the surprised look of the man seated beside her. _

" _ I am sorry…would you like to sit here? I had not realized you were separated. You should have spoken sooner, I would have moved had I known," He rose, not waiting for an answer, and collected his things before taking residence in Vaughn's empty seat. _

" _ You're a genius," she giggled, leaning in and placing a loving kiss to his mouth before pulling back and looking at the bridal magazine in his hands. "Where did you get that?" she asked with a grin as she looped her arm through his and placed her head on his shoulder. _

" _ Oh," Vaughn leaned over, holding the magazine back across the aisle to the woman he'd borrowed it from. _

" _ No, no, dearie, you look like you'll need it more than I will." She batted his hand away and resumed her knitting as he shrugged and began leafing through the catalog as Sydney dozed on his shoulder, a faint smile on her lips. _

Vaughn felt the plane begin to descend a second before the pilot announced the near arrival as he finally noticed the bright lights of Hong Kong as the haze lifted from his mind. He barely felt the landing, gathering his things and walking off the aircraft as he thanked the man in the cockpit.

A car was waiting as he climbed into the back and the driver began the journey to the safe house…and the woman that left his life so abruptly.

**…**


End file.
